


On a stormy night

by ScriptaManent



Series: Seijoh week 2020 [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Comfort, Featuring an epic game of Uno, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Matsuhana making out in the background, Mutual Pining, Oikawa sucks at Mario Kart, Party Games, Pillow & Blanket Forts, Pining, Power Outage, Seijoh Week 2020, Sleepovers, Thunder and Lightning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26161300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/pseuds/ScriptaManent
Summary: Oikawa had never really paid attention to thunderstorms... until that particular night at Matsukawa’s.Also known as the story of how a shitty weather, a series of friendship-ruining games, and a terrible horror movie led to the best night of his high school life.
Relationships: Background Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Hanamaki Takahiro & Iwaizumi Hajime & Matsukawa Issei & Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Series: Seijoh week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1985593
Comments: 6
Kudos: 193
Collections: Seijoh Week 2020





	On a stormy night

**Author's Note:**

> ✰ Seijoh Week 2020 – Day 2: Sleepover ✰

“Mattsun, how dare you?” Oikawa yelled — and for the umpteenth time that evening, Matsukawa was glad that his parents had left the house.

He flicked a quick glance at the setter, cross-legged on the floor in front of him, and an evil smile spread slowly on Matsukawa’s lips. He nudged the captain with his foot when his kart drifted dangerously close to the edge of the infamous Rainbow Road, startling him with infinite satisfaction. Oikawa’s part of the screen faded to black and he let out a desperate scream that made Matsukawa burst out laughing.

“I’ll win this one, just you wait!” the captain grumbled, his grip tightening on the remote until his knuckles were white. “I’m gonna get that rocket and wreck you!”

Two seconds later, Hanamaki crossed the finish line, obnoxiously popping a wheelie with Koopa. Dry Bones and Bowser followed suit, and the three winners watched as Oikawa faced a game over at the tenth place.

The captain carefully placed the remote onto his laps to flash a glare at his friends. On the couch, Matsukawa was sporting the biggest shit-eating grin. Beside him, his elbow propped on the latter’s shoulder, Hanamaki had his phone pointed at Oikawa, recording every second of his offended expression. Oikawa turned away from the couple, seeking support from his best friend, but Iwaizumi only raised an eyebrow at him.

“What did you say about winning?” the latter teased from the armrest where he was perched.

Oikawa glared at him for a long second before he turned back to the screen.

“I want a rematch!”

A rustling of fabric informed him that Iwaizumi had slipped to the floor beside him, and from the corner of his eyes, Oikawa watched him settle to rest the back of his head against Hanamaki’s legs. He ignored the burn that flared in his stomach and the way his heart sank at the sight — he was used to the feeling, that tinge of jealousy, of envy that manifested whenever Iwaizumi showed affection to someone. He hardly had any of that. Double standards, he called it.

He was his best friend, but it seemed Iwaizumi always displayed more physical affection to the other half of their inner friendship circle.

Oikawa focused his gaze on the screen and picked his character.

“You must be kidding me,” Hanamaki sighed, slouching deeper onto the couch. “You’re seriously gonna play Rosalina again?”

“She’s my main,” Oikawa huffed, weighing the pros and cons of a motorbike compared to a kart.

“Space stuff,” Matsukawa whispered into the other’s ear, and Hanamaki barely repressed a snort.

“Besides,” Oikawa continued as if he hadn’t heard, pride piercing through his voice, “I’ll have you know that it’s more pleasing to the eye to be staring at a female character all day long.”

He tilted his head to send a smug grin to Hanamaki, a part of his mind enjoying the way Iwaizumi’s eyebrows furrowed slightly at the declaration.

“You know what?” the pink-haired one said with a shrug. “I’m not surprised. It’s just like Iwaizumi maining Bowser.”

Immediately, the other one turned back in a jolt.

“He’s a tank!” Iwaizumi exclaimed, and a smile played at the corners of his lips. “And it’s always worth it to watch Oikawa die whenever he bumps into me.”

“You’re only picking him because he’s the Godzilla of the Mario-verse!” Oikawa opposed, causing Iwaizumi to grin proudly.

“The first reason still stands.”

The light flickered above them, and Matsukawa launched the first race of the round without waiting for his friends to be done arguing. Rainbow Road again.

* * *

“I’m picking the next game,” Hanamaki decided approximately half an hour later, leaving the living room to retrieve his bag upstairs without a look back.

Oikawa lay theatrically on the floor, whining and covering his eyes with an arm. Of course he had lost all the races. He hadn’t stood the slightest chance when his friends kept purposely leaving the first place to him, only to throw blue shells at the last second. In Matsukawa’s opinion, there was no better feeling than doubling someone on the finish line while they couldn’t do anything about it.

Oikawa begged to differ.

“I’m breaking up with all of you!” the captain groaned between his teeth.

He moved his arm from his sight just enough to see Iwaizumi and Matsukawa high-five above him, these traitors.

“It’s about time!” their host declared, full of tease. “We’re finally free! Good job!”

“Who do you think we should replace him with?” Iwaizumi immediately pondered, carefully avoiding glancing at his best friend, his lips quivering as he suppressed a smile. “I think Watari could have his spot.”

“You sure you don’t want to keep it to the three of us only? At least it’ll be quiet, now.”

Oikawa sat up with an offended huff, his frown deepening when the other two deliberately ignored him.

“Stop talking about me like I’m dead,” he complained, trying to keep his tone dry.

Matsukawa let out an excessively melancholic sigh. “Sometimes I can still hear his voice.”

“Sucks be you,” Iwaizumi followed up with a grimace that broke into a laugh when he met Oikawa’s glare.

“I’ll come back to haunt you all,” the latter declared, pouting like a child. “I’ll make your lives hell, I’ll _never_ let you live in peace.”

“So, what’s new?” Iwaizumi teased again.

His expression twitched slightly when the light flickered in the house, and Matsukawa raised a curious eyebrow, staring at the nearest lamp.

“Looks like Oikawa is already haunting the place,” he commented with a crooked smile.

The captain was saved from his tormentors by Hanamaki when he came back from upstairs, but it turned out to be only a short respite. As soon as the other three saw the red deck of cards in his hands, they knew that no matter how strong the bond they shared may be, everything would come to an end in the following ten minutes. Uno wasn’t a shounen manga. It didn’t leave room for trivial things like mercy and the power of friendship.

At the Matsukawas’, there were no longer any friends or boyfriends. Only foes remained.

Just like every normal person on Earth, the teenagers didn’t play by the official rules. They stacked +4 cards upon +4 cards, dooming the unfortunate soul that would be at the end of the chain, sealing his fate.

Iwaizumi cursed when Oikawa added another one on top of the pile, obviously enjoying his sweet revenge on the others. The spiker scanned his cards quickly, and slowly, a scary smile spread on his lips.

“Sorry, Matsukawa,” he said in a tone that suggested the opposite.

He locked eyes with the other as he placed a +2 card upon the rest of the pile and watched their friend lose all composure and respect for his teammates.

They were at two wins for Oikawa and one for Hanamaki when lightning flashed for the first time on the other side of the window, briefly illuminating the night sky. All of them shot a quick glance with varying levels of interest before resuming to their game.

“Uno!” Oikawa exclaimed triumphantly as he discarded his last card, flashing the brightest smile to the others.

He turned to Iwaizumi, expecting to find him glaring back, a retort already on his lips, but his best friend only dropped his hand, wearing a gloomy expression — well, one that was different from his normal angry face.

Oikawa realised that Iwaizumi had been unusually quiet for the past rounds, and a frown creased his forehead. He flicked a glance at Hanamaki and Matsukawa, seeking something in their eyes that would tell him they shared his concern, but the two of them were already busy shuffling the cards.

Careful not to bring attention to him, Oikawa snuck closer to his best friend.

“Iwa-chan, are you o—” he started softly, lightly touching the other’s shoulder, but Iwaizumi cut him off without any consideration.

“Let’s play another game,” he said — it sounded more like an order than a proposition.

Oikawa stared at him, holding his breath. In front of them, Matsukawa didn’t seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. A light smile played on his lips; it widened when he lifted his gaze to meet Iwaizumi’s.

“Someone’s a sore loser,” he mocked, stopping the motion of the cards between his fingers to swiftly slide them back into the box — if this guy didn’t find a job, he could easily apply to a casino. “What do you suggest?”

“Truth or dare,” Oikawa cut in before anyone could speak, closely watching Iwaizumi’s reaction, an impeccable smile plastered onto his face.

Iwaizumi didn’t protest, nor did he reply to Matsukawa’s taunt. He shrugged and crawled back to rest against the sofa, waiting for the next game to start. Oikawa’s frown deepened as his concern turned into worry. He ignored the way Iwaizumi’s sudden absence wrapped his side in a cold embrace.

In front of them, Hanamaki pulled a dice from his pocket — what was he even doing with this in the first place, Oikawa had no idea — and turned it between his fingers. It shone turquoise and pink, nacre-like under the weakening light.

“We can use it to decide who gets the next question,” he explained, rolling the dice to the center of their little circle. “It’ll make it more fun,” he added, a smile curving his lips in a scary manner. “If it shows a number we didn’t get, we roll it again.”

His dice stopped on six, and the other three rolled it in turn to claim a number. Just like that, the game began.

“Oikawa,” Hanamaki called first, his ominous smile still upon his face. “Truth or dare?”

The captain narrowed his eyes, staring at his friend, but there was no way for him to predict what he would ask. Therefore, he went for the less bad option, his heart picking up its pace in apprehension.

“Truth.”

Hanamaki’s grin widened and Oikawa swallowed audibly.

“Is there anyone you like?” the traitorous one said slowly.

Beside him, Matsukawa muffled a laugh, and Iwaizumi let out an exasperated sigh from somewhere on Oikawa’s right.

When Hanamaki — and Matsukawa, for that matter — had picked up on Oikawa’s feelings for his best friend, the setter had no idea, but he cursed them on several generations for putting him in this situation. Well, to be fair, it wasn’t like Oikawa had ever tried to be subtle about it, and everybody who wasn’t Iwaizumi probably knew how he felt about him — even these guys from Karasuno, he was certain. The only one who seemed not to notice the attention was Iwaizumi himself. Or maybe he did but didn’t want to return to feelings — Oikawa liked the first option better.

He glared at the one who supposedly was his friend and answered slowly.

“Yes” was all he said. Hanamaki had at least had the decency not to make him say Iwaizumi’s name out loud. Well, not in the first round, at least.

The setter rolled the dice and turned to the next player.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa started. His heart beat faster when he saw that Iwaizumi’s eyes were already on him. His expression shifted so quickly that Oikawa didn’t have time to decipher the first one. All that he could tell for sure was that it had been replaced by a wary glimmer in Iwaizumi’s eyes. “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” the other replied without any hesitation.

Oikawa licked his lips. He knew Iwaizumi would most likely always go for truth, and he didn’t want to piss him off from the get-go. Besides, he would rather not have witnesses, if he were to ever ask Iwaizumi what he truly thought of him — or if he ever were to ask him out, actually.

“If there was one thing you could change in your life, what would it be? Remember you have to say the truth, Iwa-chan!” he sang-song, his lighthearted tone contrasting with the nervousness that swirled in his stomach.

They stared at each other a moment, ignoring Matsukawa calling the question lame, each passing second reinforcing Oikawa’s dread. The silly idea that Iwaizumi would rather not have met him, all those years ago, crept from the back of his mind where it was usually locked away. He knew how stupid it was, but he couldn’t help the fear of rejection that devoured him from the inside.

He remained focused on Iwaizumi’s expression, studying the way his frown deepened briefly, so easily missable; watching as his lips parted and closed again, as if Iwaizumi was biting back words that he didn’t dare let out.

“I’d… I’d want to be taller,” Iwaizumi eventually declared after what seemed to be an eternity.

Of course.

Oikawa leaned back with a frustrated cry that caused the other two to laugh at him.

“You should have seen it coming,” Matsukawa pointed out, and Iwaizumi darted a glance at him, scowling.

When the dice immediately rolled back to Oikawa’s number, the setter saw it as a sign from fate.

“Dare!” he declared without even leaving Iwaizumi time to ask him the usual question.

A smirk tugged at the corners of Iwaizumi’s lips, playful and promising. Butterflies took flight in Oikawa’s stomach, inside his whole chest, brushing their wings under his skin and pressing on his lungs. He learnt forward in anticipation, and the whole world faded around him, making Iwaizumi’s presence the only thing he was aware of.

In the distance, thunder rumbled, slightly shaking the glass window.

Iwaizumi darted a glance outside and focused his gaze back on Oikawa. When he spoke again, he faltered, and Oikawa had the neat impression that it wasn’t his original idea.

“Post a video of you singing along to Ponponpon on all your social media and keep it online for twenty four hours. You’re not allowed to say it’s a dare.”

Oikawa’s own little bubble popped, shattering like broken glass, and reality slapped him in the face like a hurricane. This was the real Iwaizumi, his best friend, always there to tease him and that he shouldn’t trust with dares under any circumstances. He should have seen it coming, but his stupid little heart had gotten the best of him for an instant and it had been enough to shred all his hopes.

He let out a sigh, glaring at the other, but Oikawa dropped his act almost immediately to send an inquisitive frown to Iwaizumi — his Iwa-chan sense was tingling, and for a split second, he was convinced that something was wrong. Was his frown different than usual? Were his jaws clenched? He looked tense, right?

“Well?” Iwaizumi said, raising an impatient eyebrow, nothing really out of the ordinary showing on his face. “Do you need us to record the video?”

Hanamaki seconded the idea, and Oikawa’s attention was taken away from Iwaizumi, his concern vanishing as soon as he wasn’t staring straight at it anymore.

His voice broke several times during the song and he messed up the rhythm, but he wasn’t allowed a second take. Pressing send with a shaky hand, Oikawa hoped that people would scroll down without stopping to listen to this embarrassment of a video — but of course, it was without counting on his friends’ dedication. They shared the clip wherever they could, thus ruining what was left of Oikawa’s reputation.

“What reputation?” Matsukawa teased, but Oikawa didn’t bother to reply.

“Iwa-chan!” he called almost aggressively, pointing at the dice — there really was some higher power that wanted them to play against each other. “Truth or dare?”

Lightning illuminated the room, highlighting Iwaizumi’s features for the briefest time.

“Truth. Can you draw the curtains?” he asked Matsukawa without pausing.

Oikawa blew an offended breath from his nose, upset that Iwaizumi’s attention kept bouncing off him.

“Iwa-chan, what are you the most jealous of?” he asked. It was the first question that had come to him, and he was annoyed enough not to care about the pettiness that pierced through his voice.

“Your girlfriends,” Iwaizumi answered without taking any time to think about it.

Lightning struck not far from the neighbourhood, and the next second, the room was plunged into darkness. They remained in the dark for a moment before Hanamaki’s voice rose from the other side of the room, sounding farther away than Oikawa knew he really was.

“Do you think the power is out?” the spiker asked instinctively — there was always one person to state the obvious in this kind of situation, and in their group it was Hanamaki.

There was a ruffle of clothes, a muffled scream of pain, footsteps, and another ruffling sound, this time farther, followed by the noise of something hitting a window.

“Yup,” Matsukawa confirmed before he came back to this boyfriend’s side. “I guess it won’t be back before a while so let’s just keep on playing,” he offered, fumbling on the floor for his phone.

The first one that he put his hand on wasn’t actually his — it was Hanamaki’s —, but he still turned the torch light on and used it to find the dice and resume to the game.

This time, it was Hanamaki’s turn to play, and of course the latter went for a dare. He always went for dare. Hanamaki had no fear.

“Come on, Iwaizumi, we’re already in the dark, make it spicy,” he taunted.

Oikawa regretted that he couldn’t see his best friend’s face.

“Alright,” Iwaizumi sighed, and there was _something_ that Oikawa couldn’t quite explain in his voice, as if there was a barely noticeable tremor to it. “I dare you to give Matsukawa a hickey.”

“Another one?” the latter snorted.

At the same time, Oikawa blurted, “We’re in the dark and you’re pushing them to make out? I’m not sleeping here if they’re going at it!”

There was a short silence, only a fraction of second, before Oikawa spoke again, words flowing out of his mouth. There was no way he was going to listen to the couple making out — not _again_ , he already had to suffer through it at school.

“Seriously, Iwa-chan, that was not very responsible of you. Unless it’s your strategy to make sure we’ll have a room all to ourselves,” he teased, forcing his tone to remain light to hide the way his thoughts took paths he didn’t want them to follow.

The phone shifted in Matsukawa’s hand, briefly blinding Oikawa and shutting him up, and Hanamaki burst out laughing out of sudden.

“Can you blush even more than that?” he mocked the captain, wiping tears off his eyes.

Without waiting for a reply, Hanamaki took his phone from his boyfriend, and tilted Matsukawa’s chin to highlight the red spot that was blooming on his skin, right under his jaws — it would be impossible to hide.

“Happy?” he asked Iwaizumi.

The other hummed a vague reply and Oikawa snuck closer to him in the dark.

The dice rolled in the middle of the circle, designating Matsukawa as the next player, and Hanamaki made sure to take advantage of the situation when the other picked dare — honestly, Oikawa couldn’t blame them. He would have done the same, had he been in their place.

“Take your shirt off using only one hand,” Hanamaki challenged, but Oikawa couldn’t care less about what the other two were doing.

He slid closer to Iwaizumi again, until he could feel the warmth radiating from him. There was no light on them, no attention, no prying eyes, and the opportunity was almost too good to be real. His heart was racing in his chest when he brushed the soft skin of Iwaizumi’s hand.

“Iwaizumi!” Matsukawa called, flashing the light in his direction.

Oikawa cursed internally and backed off quickly, glaring at his friends. Even with the darkness concealing their features, he could tell that they were laughing at him.

“Dare,” Iwaizumi chose, surprising everyone.

Matsukawa froze, the question he had planned dying on his lips. He glanced at Oikawa, thick eyebrows lifted, as if asking him permission or a direction to follow, but Oikawa paid him no attention, too baffled to take his eyes off Iwaizumi.

The latter wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, his eyes fixed on a point above Matsukawa’s shoulder. Thunder rolled again, loud, this time from another direction. Storms were converging. They were lucky not to be stuck outside.

“I… I dare you to... I dare you to kiss Oikawa for thirty seconds?” Matsukawa faltered, his voice raising at the end as if it was a question.

The setter stared at him wide-eyed before he turned back to his best friend to see his reaction. Iwaizumi took a deep breath in, as if weighing pros and cons, and Oikawa’s heart stopped when Iwaizumi nodded slowly.

He turned to face Oikawa, an unreadable look in his eyes, moving slowly enough for Oikawa to protest at the top of his lungs at least ten times if he really wanted to. He placed his hand on Oikawa’s shoulder to steady him, and all thoughts vanished from the captain’s mind. He wasn’t aware of anything anymore. His mind was light, almost dizzy, his breath stolen away. His whole world bathed in forest green eyes staring into his very soul.

Iwaizumi’s lips were only a breath away from his, but Oikawa would let him make the first move. This would come from him.

Thunder rumbled in the night, the manifestation of Oikawa’s own heartbeat hammering against his chest, of his blood pulsing through his body.

Iwaizumi jumped back, shutting his eyelids close and gritting his teeth. Oikawa fell backward onto the carpet and his heart broke into millions of dangerous shards at the impact.

“That’s it, I’m done,” Iwaizumi snapped out of the blue. “I played along so far, you’ve got what you wanted, but this is where I draw the line. I’m not playing anymore,” he declared painfully, retreating to the sofa, his breath short.

Hanamaki rushed to Oikawa’s side, concern and incomprehension written all over his face, and Matsukawa put his t-shirt back on in a hurry. An awkward silence settled in the room and Matsukawa covered the torch of his phone with his palm to smother the light, giving everybody some more time to recover from the situation. Oikawa used it as an opportunity to press his palm to his stinging eyes when nobody would see him — damn dust, Matsukawa really should vacuum the carpet more often.

“That was a stupid dare, anyway,” the setter eventually said in a light tone, forcing a smile onto his face as he straightened up.

One hand on Oikawa’s back to steady him, Hanamaki pinched him between the ribs, a scowl on his face that was reminiscent of Iwaizumi’s whenever he was concerned for Oikawa.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to make you uncomfortable,” Matsukawa carefully added, and Oikawa was pretty sure he was looking his way instead of Iwaizumi’s. “It’s just a game, really… What do you say we watch a movie? I have a few on my laptop.”

“Let’s watch a horror one!” Hanamaki agreed, his cheerfulness a bit too forced to be natural.  
Iwaizumi didn’t seem to notice, and that was probably what put Oikawa back on track. He was certain that he hadn’t dreamt it, Iwaizumi had wanted it as much as he had, or at least he had definitely intended to kiss him. Something really was off, for Iwaizumi not to react to his friends’ taunts and acts, and Oikawa hated that he couldn’t tell what.

He propped himself to his knees and crawled to his best friend’s side to nudge him. He was pretty sure that he heard Iwaizumi apologize under his breath, but it was covered by another roll of thunder. Oikawa flicked a glare at the window — this stupid weather was really starting to drive him mad.

“What about The Shining?” Hanamaki offered as he threw a bunch of pillows and blankets onto the couch and made himself comfortable against the armrest, discreetly pulling on Oikawa’s sleeve to ask him to get Iwaizumi to join.

“We’re _not_ watching this one again,” Matsukawa grumbled, tilting the screen of his laptop and projecting blue light on the wall behind him. “Last time we did I jumped when I stumbled upon my sisters in the corridor after the movie, and to this day they still make sure I’ll never forget about it.”

He took a step back and dropped onto the couch beside his boyfriend to select something to watch. Conveniently hidden in the shadows, Oikawa tugged on Iwaizumi’s hoodie and dragged him to the others’ side.

Fortunately, the sofa was big enough to have the four of them sit pretty comfortably, and the pillows and blankets made the whole difference between watching something together and a proper movie night with their best friends.

By the time Matsukawa and Hanamaki had picked a movie and placed the laptop in front of them on a chair, the four teenagers were settled. Hanamaki was resting his head on Matsukawa’s shoulder, the other’s arm around his waist in a loose embrace. On the very left sat Iwaizumi, his gaze resolutely fixed on the computer screen. Finally, Oikawa took all the remaining space on the couch, tucked between his two friends, his back against Iwaizumi’s side and his legs spread in front of him on top of the other two’s laps.

The opening credits rolled, and the room fell into a comfortable silence as the teenagers’ attention was sucked into the movie. Every time something happened on screen, Hanamaki and Matsukawa snorted and Oikawa threw in a few complaints about the characters’ lack of instinct of survival. The violent storms still battling outside their windows only added to the atmosphere.

Half of the movie and a few jumpscares later, Oikawa couldn’t help but be oppressed by the nervousness he could feel radiating from Iwaizumi. His best friend was usually composed and relaxed, and so far he had always been immune to horror movies three times worse than the one they were watching. This time, however, he was more jumpy than Oikawa had ever seen him, even when nothing really scary was happening on screen.

The main character dropped her keys to the ground and Iwaizumi startled at the sound. Slowly but surely, the setter’s attention drifted from the movie to his friend. There was a tension buzzing in Iwaizumi’s shoulders, and Oikawa could almost feel his blood pulse fiercely under his skin. 

He tilted his head back to nudge Iwaizumi in a soft attempt at comforting him and his heart skipped a beat when the other nuzzled his face into his hair; it threatened to pierce a hole through his chest when Iwaizumi’s fingers hooked in the hem of his shirt. The sheer intimacy of the moment was enough for Oikawa to forget how to breathe once again.

Iwaizumi’s breath tickled his neck and Oikawa shuddered against his will.

He reached back tentatively, his position making any discreet move nearly impossible, and two sets of eyes flicked him a mocking look that Oikawa refused to pay any attention to. His elbow clumsily bumped into Iwaizumi’s thigh, dislodging the ace who straightened farther out of Oikawa’s reach — and the setter cursed internally for putting himself in such a stupid position that didn’t allow him to take advantage of the darkness.

He was already making plans to smoothly get to rest his head on Iwaizumi’s laps when the latter tapped two fingers onto his back, scaring Oikawa off and making him jump to the ceiling.

“Move,” Iwaizumi requested, his low voice covered by the couple laughing on the other side of the couch.

Oikawa obliged and watched in silence as Iwaizumi left in the direction of the kitchen, his eyebrows knitted together and his lips pursed in a pout.

“Don’t you think there’s something off with him tonight?” he asked the other two, his eyes still on the door.

“Maybe he needs time to process that we almost got him to kiss you,” Matsukawa hazarded with a shrug, raising an eyebrow as he side-eyed Oikawa.

“No I don’t think that’s the problem,” the other replied with absolute seriousness, clicking his tongue. “Already before that. He’s been all weird during our game of Uno already.”

The noise of running water reached him from the kitchen and Oikawa scowlded again.

“I’m gonna check on him,” he declared, jumping to his feet and grabbing his phone for light — it hit him that Iwaizumi hadn’t even bothered taking one with him.

Sure, they were used to crashing at Matsukawa’s for a few hours or a sleepover, and they were well acquainted with Mattsun’s parents and little twin sisters, but maybe not to the point of blindly finding their way around the house without bruising their legs against a piece of furniture.

Oikawa untangled his earphones from the screen and shoved them into his back pocket. Then, he pressed the torch light button and carefully made his way to the kitchen, dodging furniture and plant pots, his steps rhythmed by the sound of thunder and the murmurs of the movie playing in the other room. There was something particular in the air as he walked in the dark — apprehension, perhaps — that he didn’t know whether it came from the horror movie he had been vaguely following or from his own concern.

He reached the kitchen door and pushed it open, a teasing smile he felt nothing of plastered onto his face. He made sure to be noisy when he entered the dark room, and left his phone screen down on the nearest surface to display a faint light.

He found Iwaizumi pouring himself a glass of water from the tap and he gulped it down without turning the water off. His shoulders were hunched, his left hand clutching the edge of the sink; he took in deep breaths, as if trying to calm himself down.

“Iwa-chan, I didn’t think I’d ever find a movie that would make you so jumpy,” Oikawa joked with a quivering smile that barely contained his concern.

His hand brushed the other’s back, and Iwaizumi slapped it away, backing off into the nearest countertop.

“Don’t—” Iwaizumi inhaled sharply, his pupils two dark puddles filled with terror.

His back hit the edge of the piece of furniture with a muffled sound and they stared at each other, alarmed eyes and concerned gaze.

Resolutely silent, Oikawa crossed the distance between them in a step. He took the empty glass from his best friend’s shaky hand and poured himself a drink without looking at Iwaizumi. Oikawa gulped it down, poured another one, and slid against the sink to sit on the cold floor.

Without adding a word, he patted the empty space next to him, staring up with a serious expression until Iwaizumi joined him on the floor. Only when he was settled beside him, their shoulders brushing, did Oikawa speak again.

“Bother telling me what’s going on?” he asked, carefully placing the glass between the other’s hands.

Iwaizumi’s fingers curled around it like it was the only thing keeping him sane.

“It’s not the movie, am I right?” Oikawa continued, closely watching the other when Iwaizumi remained silent, taking small sips of water.

The stiffness of his body relaxed bit by bit and his breathing eased slowly. Eventually, Iwaizumi reached up to put the empty glass away.

Thunder rolled once more, resonating through the walls and making the glass click against the side of the sink. Iwaizumi twitched, pressing his back against the counter, his jaws clenching in immediate response to the sound.

“I don’t… I don’t really like thunder,” he admitted with difficulty, his eyelids shut tight.

The dim light casted shadows on his face, tragically highlighting his pained expression. Oikawa’s heart clenched at the sight. He left Iwaizumi’s side half a second to retrieve his phone and dropped back to the floor, shamelessly squeezing himself against Iwaizumi.

He reached out for his back pocket, untangled the thread of his earphones under Iwaizumi’s confused gaze, and inserted them into the other’s ears, carefully avoiding to look at his eyes. Then, he plugged the earphones in his phone and played the most relaxing music he could find, wrapping an arm around Iwaizumi to keep him close.

Slowly but surely, the tension in Iwaizumi’s body ebbed, and he made himself more comfortable against his best friend. After the third instrumental song, he plucked the earphones off and put the phone away, putting an arm around Oikawa’s waist, his head resting on the other’s shoulder.

The peacefulness that emanated from Oikawa was contagious, seeping in Iwaizumi’s troubled mind. Alone in the dimly lit room, they allowed themselves to be everything they couldn’t be when people were looking at them, when the two of them were too busy watching their every move to let their hearts speak in their stead.

Oikawa nuzzled his cheek against Iwaizumi’s hair, absentmindedly tracing lines on his best friend’s arm. It was so rare for him to have Iwaizumi so close, to share such intimate moments, that he found himself absentmindedly pressing his lips to Iwaizumi’s forehead. Iwaizumi’s hand squeezed his waist, his fingers hooking into Oikawa’s belt loop, and he pressed himself closer. His breath tickled Oikawa’s skin when he exhaled.

“Why do you have to be like this?” Iwaizumi breathed, his voice barely a whisper.

It was soft and low; it sounded like secrets shared a few seconds before slumber.

Only a chuckle answered him, equally quiet, and Oikawa’s fingers slid up his arm to brush the side of his throat, the contact a mere caress. He felt Iwaizumi’s heartbeat under his touch, and he was pretty sure that his already quick pulse raced faster when Iwaizumi inhaled to speak again.

“Oikawa?” he called with such fondness that made breathing all the more difficult for the setter. “Truth or dare?”

The other took a moment to ponder, wondering what could be crossing Iwaizumi’s mind at this exact moment.

“Truth,” he eventually said, curiosity piercing through his voice.

Iwaizumi swallowed against him. The pad of Oikawa’s thumb traced the outline of his jaw and his eyelids fluttered shut.

“What’s the name of the person you like?”

A beat, just enough time for Oikawa to flick him a surprised glance where Iwaizumi couldn’t see him.

“Iwa-chan,” he whispered, a soft laugh in his voice. “I think you already know that.”

There was another pause, and Iwaizumi stiffened ostensibly against him. He stirred a bit, tilting his head to catch a glimpse of the other’s expression.

“I want you to tell me,” he insisted.

Iwaizumi’s face was unreadable, his gaze painfully serious. With his ear pressed like this against his skin, there was no way Iwaizumi could miss the way Oikawa’s heart hammered in his chest. The setter shakily brushed a strand of hair out of Iwaizumi’s face, green eyes never leaving his. At his side, his other hand reached for the one Iwaizumi still had hooked in his belt loop.

He intertwined their fingers, his thumb brushing the side of Iwaizumi’s hand, but Oikawa’s chest was filled with too many overwhelming emotions for him to dare meet the other’s eyes directly.

“I just did,” Oikawa murmured slowly, a mocking smile in his voice. “Pay attention.”

For a moment, Oikawa was certain Iwaizumi had stopped breathing — and this time, thunder had nothing to do with his reaction. Eventually, Iwaizumi exhaled a long breath, completely relaxing against Oikawa. He settled more comfortably, no longer holding back. It was one of these rare moments that Oikawa cherished more than anything.

Iwaizumi’s face rested in the crook of Oikawa’s neck, fitting perfectly, his eyelashes brushing the other’s skin every time he blinked. The amount of trust and intimacy that such a simple gesture radiated was suffocating; there wasn’t a word, Oikawa was certain, in any language, that could convey half of how much the moment meant to him.

“Hey, Iwa-chan?” he asked after a while, pensively. “My first question, earlier, about changing something in your life… Did you really answer with the truth?”

“It was one truth,” Iwaizumi admitted, his shoulders shaking with a short laugh.

“But you had something else in mind, right? What was it?”

The other pulled back slowly, the sudden distance between them freezing and painful to Oikawa. Iwaizumi averted his gaze, turning his face away, where he knew the shadows would hide his expression. He lifted his chin slightly, as he always did whenever he was embarrassed about something, and Oikawa’s eyebrows knitted slightly.

“It seems like I didn't need to change it, after all,” Iwaizumi shrugged, and even in the almost darkness, Oikawa was certain that there was a blush on Iwaizumi’s cheeks.

He nudged him again, playfully. “I gave you one truth, give me one in return.”

A sigh escaped Iwaizumi’s lips — or maybe it was a laugh, a flustered one.

“My first thought was ‘my best friend being straight’,” he mumbled sheepishly, and it took several seconds for the words to reach Oikawa’s brain.

His laugh echoed on the walls, all the tenderness of the moment gone, his voice so loud that their friends probably heard him from the living room. From the face he was making, it was obvious that Iwaizumi regretted speaking at all.

“Wait, you’re seriously telling me you didn’t know I was bi until then? Everybody knows I’ve been in love with you for years! Why do you think Mattsun gave you that dare earlier?” Oikawa gasped between two bursts of laughter.

Iwaizumi glared at him, his eyes narrowing into a challenging expression that was quick to calm Oikawa down.

“Yeah, about that,” Iwaizumi started, his eyes locking with Oikawa’s — and the setter’s breath caught in his throat at the sight. Even with a phone as the only source of light, Oikawa could tell how intense his gaze was.

Iwaizumi shifted his position to face the other, forcing him to press his back against the countertop. He placed his hand on Oikawa’s cheek — it was burning, Oikawa noted as his raging heartbeat made him deaf to any external sound. Never leaving the other’s eyes, Iwaizumi slowly closed the distance between them, until he was so close that Oikawa couldn’t focus on anything else but his lips, bare millimeters away from him.

It was different from their previous experience in the living-room. It was more intense, hotter, it was suffocating. The way Oikawa’s heart hammered against his rib cage was almost painful. Iwaizumi’s presence was intoxicating, but Oikawa didn’t want it to stop. He didn’t want it to stop _ever_. His mind was dizzy, his skin prickling, his breath short and sharp, and in this very moment, Oikawa would have given Iwaizumi everything he wished for, and even more.

“Hajime…”

The first name rolled on Oikawa’s tongue as he gave what felt like his last breath, his eyelids fluttering when their lips brushed together.

Iwaizumi’s thumb caressed Oikawa’s cheekbone, tender, and he turned slightly away, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I’m saving it for later,” the teaser whispered into Oikawa’s ear, and he pulled back to sit against another piece of furniture, a smug pride gleaming in his eyes.

It took several seconds for Oikawa to recover from the emotion, and some more for the words to reach his dazed brain. His brows furrowed, and he glared at his best friend — weren’t they more, now? — without any trace of sympathy.

“You’re mean, Iwa-chan.”

The other laughed at the crack in his voice, the sound warm and familiar, and a part of Oikawa immediately forgave him for his trick. His laugh died abruptly when a lightning bolt stripped the sky again.

Iwaizumi swallowed nervously, his shoulders tensing, and Oikawa didn’t know anymore whether he wanted to bless or to curse that damn thunderstorm. He reached out to pull Iwaizumi closer, protectively, and threw the other’s hood over his face to distract him.

“Come on,” Oikawa declared, flashing a smile and grabbing his phone from its spot on the floor. “Let’s go back to the living room before Makki and Mattsun find out we’re missing.”

He slipped his hand into Iwaizumi’s, his grin widening when the other squeezed it lightly, and propelled himself to his feet in a swift motion. 

“That, or they’re already making out on the couch,” Iwaizumi opposed, raising an eyebrow and following the movement.

Oikawa smirked.

“Then we’ll have to compete,” he teased, and Iwaizumi flicked the other’s forehead for good measure.

Even when he was freaking out, Iwaizumi was still able to respond to Oikawa’s stupid jokes — although this one had had its kernel of truth.

It was funny, how the two of them acted like nothing had changed. They kept their banter familiar and their tone light as always, and still, they wouldn’t let go of the other’s hand. There was no way that Oikawa could get rid of the stupid grin on his face either, not with that genuine blissfulness that swole in his chest.

And yet, the storm was still strong outside, and their dreamy moment had to come to an end.

Oikawa dragged Iwaizumi back to the living room where their two friends were still on the couch, half sitting and half lying, slouching further than they had been when Oikawa had left them. From the bored looks on their faces, they had probably been about to fall asleep in front of the movie.

“Looks like not much happened,” Oikawa declared, repressing a frown when Iwaizumi’s hand slipped out of his.

The spiker settled back onto the couch with the others, shoving his hands into the front pocket of his hoodie, and Oikawa joined him begrudgingly.

The thing was, Iwaizumi wasn’t half as good at pretending as his best friend was. Every time lightning struck somewhere, Iwaizumi flinched and Oikawa’s heart sank deeper in his chest. It took him all of five minutes to come up with a plan, and Oikawa jumped from the couch to stand in front of his friends, his hands on his hips, blocking the others’ view.

With such an obnoxious stance, it was obvious to everyone that it was Oikawa The Team Captain who took the floor.

“Enough with this boring movie, we’re doing something else!” he declared, looking at his three teammates, a determined light shining in his eyes.

Matsukawa flicked a quick glance at his boyfriend and a sigh escaped his lips when he straightened up to give his full attention to their annoying captain.

“And what do you have in mind?” Hanamaki asked suspiciously, propping himself up from Matsukawa’s thighs where his head had been resting.

“Let’s make a pillow fort!”

Hanamaki dropped back to his initial position. “Can you have an even more immature idea?” he groaned, rubbing sleep out of his eyes.

And yet, the setter knew he was listening closely.

“I mean it,” Oikawa insisted, closing the laptop lid behind him in a way that didn’t allow any contestation. “Come on, it’ll be fun! We already have a few blankets here.”

He waited a bit, noting the frown that creased Iwaizumi’s face in his peripheral vision.

“And how are you gonna fit four over one hundred and eighty centimeters tall people into a pillow fort, captain?” Mattsun inquired with a sly grin — but he was already folding the couch blankets, waiting for the instructions.

“We’ll make it work!” Oikawa affirmed confidently.

He clapped his hands together and, out of habit more than anything else, Hanamaki and Matsukawa moved from their spot to oblige Oikawa’s whim. Matsukawa piled the folded blankets at the foot of the couch and Hanamaki gathered all the pillows he could find in the room. Still sitting against the armrest, his chin resting in his palm, Iwaizumi looked up at Oikawa, arching an eyebrow in a skeptical expression.

“What?” Oikawa couldn’t help but ask defensively.

 _I’m doing this for you, you know!_ he wanted to add.

“A pillow fort, really?”

Oikawa shrugged and turned to the others. He didn’t miss the way the corners of Iwaizumi’s lips tilted upward.

The instructions were given quickly, and the small team soon got in motion. It was decided that Iwaizumi and Matsukawa would take the lead and stay downstairs to discuss the architecture of their fort while the other two would bring as many pillows, blankets, and comfortable sheets as they would find.

The scavenger duo went to the guest room first, looting the wardrobe and the closet and stocking as much as they could in a basket. Oikawa was still debating whether they should take the spare futons with them when Hanamaki leaned against the wardrobe, catching his attention. He shoved his hands into his shorts at his sides and flicked a quick glance at the stairs.

“So, what’s going on with Iwaizumi?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. His eyes settled on his friend, piercing and serious. “Don’t give me that look, Oikawa, I’m not stupid. Even you wouldn’t make us build a pillow fort in the middle of the night without a good reason. So?”

A joyless smile stretched the setter’s lips and he lowered his hand, aiming the ray of light on the pile of blankets. The house was awfully quiet, upstairs, and he knew he had no way out of the conversation.

“Turns out he’s scared of thunderstorms,” Oikawa let out in a low voice.

He had tried to keep his tone casual, but it had ended up sounding sad instead.

“And why has this idiot not told anyone?”

Oikawa shrugged. He had asked himself the same question, back in the kitchen.

“I think he’s ashamed. It’s Iwa-chan we’re talking about,” he admitted with a sad laugh. “I have the feeling he’s pretty insecure about it, so I didn’t want to push him…”

Hanamaki let out a sigh and his head hit the empty piece of furniture behind him when he titled it back, producing a sound similar to the one of an echo chamber. He stared at the ceiling and the silence stretched between the two teammates.

“And so that’s why you came up with the pillow fort idea, huh?” he eventually said, his eyes focusing back on his friend.

Oikawa averted his gaze, toying with the basket in front of him with his foot.

“I can’t stand seeing him like this,” he confirmed with a frown, giving a light kick to an owl-patterned cushion. “I figured the whole pillow fort-building thing would keep his mind busy and he would forget a bit about the storm.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Hanamaki agreed slowly. “We could also play some music to drown out the sound of thunder.”

A weary sigh escaped his lips and he pushed himself off the wardrobe to gather the remaining cushions scattered on the floor.

“Still, I can’t believe you’re doing all of this and he still hasn’t caught on your feelings. Talk about being dense,” he groaned, as if his friends’ chaotic love life was a personal affront.

Any other day, Oikawa would have agreed wholeheartedly — even though objectively, any of them would have done the same to help one of their friends — but this time it felt so good for Hanamaki to be wrong.

Oikawa remained quiet, a smile that the other couldn’t see playing at the corner of his lips and a lightness in his heart that made it beat faster. Now, Iwaizumi knew, and there was a possible future for both of them that shone happily at the end of the line.

“Oikawa. You’re being weirdly silent,” Hanamaki pointed out carefully, and Oikawa’s grin widened at the intensity of the stare he felt on his back. “Did something happen in the kitchen?” the spiker pressed.

An innocent expression on his face, the captain blinked at his friend repeatedly.

“Oikawa…” Hanamaki threatened.

He took a pillow to the face as Oikawa dodged his grip and grabbed the basket on his way to the door.

“Makki, you’re being so nosy, today!” he declared playfully as he strutted out, a triumphant grin across his face.

* * *

Hanamaki’s nose was red when he followed Oikawa into the living room, and Iwaizumi lifted an inquisitive eyebrow that Oikawa pretended not to see. However, Iwaizumi didn’t miss the way his best friend tripped when he entered the room, or how his eyebrows knitted together when he noticed Matsukawa’s arm around Iwaizumi’s shoulders and their proximity on the couch. The setter’s lips pursed into a barely noticeable pout, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. Was this idiot going to be jealous, now?

Well, it wasn’t going to kill him anyway. Right now, Iwaizumi was glad for the comforting warmth that radiated from the tall middle blocker in his back. It kept him grounded enough for him to watch his breath, and the plan they had been drawing together had helped him focus on something else than the thunderstorm.

He stole a quick glance at Oikawa, another kind of warmth spreading through his chest, a mix of gratefulness and something else that Iwaizumi still couldn’t believe was mutual.

The tiniest smile tugged at the corner of his lips and Iwaizumi forced himself to focus back on Matsukawa’s voice talking to him about the fort. Vain attempt.

The spiker was well aware that the whole pillow fort building story was his best friend’s attempt at helping him out of his anxiety, and as time passed and the night stretched, it was becoming harder and harder to ignore the nagging little voice at the back of his mind — the one that urged him to stop holding back, the one that pressed him to reach for Oikawa’s hand every time he walked by, the one that would never shut up until he would have run his fingers through that silk-like chocolate hair and learnt the taste of these stupid lips.

Well, that had already nearly happened twice that night.

Matsukawa nudged him, raising an amused eyebrow, and Iwaizumi focused back on the drawing. At least his friend was always there to bring him back to reality whenever he was being too obvious.

It took the four of them all of an hour to build their pillow fort, Oikawa stopping from time to time to dance on some particularly nice music, bringing his friends along — or at least trying to — and Matsukawa making them rebuild whole parts of the fort when it didn’t stick to his plan, but they all agreed to say that this was by far the best pillow fort ever made on Earth. It also took half of the gigantic living room.

The couch had been requisitioned as one of the load-bearing walls, the mattress replaced by cushions only and now serving as the other main part of the structure. They had laid a bedsheet between the two to make a ceiling, securing it with countless clothespins, and the remaining blankets had been spread on the floor to accommodate them.

To be perfectly honest, as childish as it could sound, that night was one of the best sleepovers they had ever had. Fortunately enough, their own personal paparazzi, by the name of Hanamaki Takahiro, had made sure to immortalize every moment of it, from the first pillow to the exact second the tent had fallen on Iwaizumi, to the final stage.

It was only when they were finished that Iwaizumi realised how quiet the night now was. The storm had moved away without him noticing for what was probably the first time in his nearly eighteen years of life.

Instinctively, he searched the room for Oikawa and found him looking back at him, grinning proudly, and for once, earnestly.

It was almost three in the morning when the four of them settled in after a refreshing shower. Nobody had even thought about checking the electricity, but they couldn’t care less when only their laughs echoed in the dead of night.

Iwaizumi was the first to crawl in, and he considered the empty couch briefly. It was long enough to accommodate him and the stacked pillows would make it a comfortable bed. It would be a peaceful heaven away from pushing limbs and knees in the back… But deep down, he knew that it wasn’t what he wanted.

With a resigned sigh and one last glance at his promised paradise, Iwaizumi dropped onto his back in the middle of the sea of blankets, earning a surprised look from his three friends. Matsukawa sent him a knowing smirk that faded as soon as a pillow hit his face.

Iwaizumi refused to believe that this guy had been aware that Oikawa loved him back and had kept quiet the whole time. Not that Iwaizumi had ever expressly told him, but Matsukawa was the observant type of guy, and he had proven himself to be skilled at reading people more than once. It hadn’t taken him long to pick up on the way Iwaizumi’s gaze drifted to Oikawa whenever the other wasn’t looking.

With a short laugh, the middle blocker dropped at his side, mockingly poking Iwaizumi in the ribs. He only calmed down when his boyfriend flopped down beside him and passed an arm around his waist.

God bless Hanamaki.

Oikawa was the last one to join them. He hesitated briefly before he made himself comfortable on Iwaizumi’s other side, his best friend’s gaze following his silhouette in the dark like he was drawn to him. The setter lay down at a safe distance, unaware of the way Iwaizumi’s brows furrowed. Was this dumbass being shy, now of all time?

A comfortable silence settled in the dark, only broken by the torrent of thoughts raging in Iwaizumi’s mind. He paid absolutely no attention to the couple in his back, too busy listening to Oikawa’s breath. From the way he stirred, Iwaizumi could tell he was as obsessed with the empty space between them as Iwaizumi was himself. Well, Iwaizumi was _bothered_ , actually.

He let out an irritated sigh, for good measure.

“Oikawa, I can feel you staring,” he declared, faking annoyance.

He waited, expecting the other to take the bait.

“Can you two lovebirds shut up? Some people are trying to sleep,” Hanamaki groaned, his voice muffled as his face was probably buried between his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Iwaizumi’s heart clenched at the thought. He wanted this too… But as much as they could talk about Oikawa’s pride, Iwaizumi’s was what had always kept him from showing his best friend how much he had always meant to him. It was stupid, he was aware, but it had always been so much easier to be affectionate with other people when he didn’t look at them like he looked at Oikawa. It didn’t have the same weight — it was easier to bear.

But as all things have to come to an end, maybe Iwaizumi could learn how to let go of this stupid pride. He had already taken a few steps in that direction, all that he needed was to keep moving forward.

“ _You’re_ the lovebirds,” Oikawa retorted like a kid, earning himself an unconvinced hum in reply.

His voice brought Iwaizumi back to reality and to the painful distance between them. Had Oikawa always been so obviously in love? Probably — Iwaizumi had always refused to get his hopes up. Oikawa was a flirt, and a people’s person, and Iwaizumi had always pretended that Oikawa acted with him just like he did with everyone else. Perhaps he had been wrong all this time.

And still, this idiot wasn’t moving from his spot half a meter away. What was he even afraid of?

There was another silence, and Iwaizumi eventually gave in to the voice at the back of his mind. It would do them no good if Oikawa was too insecure to make the first move and Iwaizumi too stubborn to seize the moment, only to regret it later.

He stopped holding back and reached out to Oikawa, following his arm up to his chest until his palm rested flat onto the other. He was pretty sure Oikawa shivered at the contact.

Iwaizumi hooked his fingers into the fabric of Oikawa’s shirt and pulled lightly, his heart skipping a beat when the setter followed naturally, as if they were used to doing this. Oikawa always responded to his touch.

“Drop the act, dumbass,” Iwaizumi ordered in a whisper, his voice soft at the edge.

Oikawa stiffened beside him, as if struggling to determine what was allowed and what was going too fast. Warmth radiated from him, soothing wave by soothing wave, the feeling both familiar and foreign, for Iwaizumi had never allowed himself to give in so wholeheartedly before.

He passed an arm around Oikawa, pulling him closer until they were pressed against each other and he could rest his head on the other’s shoulder. He tangled his leg with his best friend’s, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help the grin that curled his lips when Oikawa held his breath.

Slowly, hesitantly, the setter placed a hand on top of Iwaizumi’s. He tried moving his other arm, the one that was tucked between them, and Iwaizumi moved away briefly so that he could wrap it around him. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but it worked, and they had plenty of time to get used to each other.

Both of them relaxed progressively, melting against each other, their eyelids getting heavy with sleep and the satisfaction of having reached a moment they both had waiting so long for.

Oikawa rested his hand on the small of Iwaizumi’s back, tracing words that Iwaizumi couldn’t decipher, and the spiker let out a contented sigh. His fingers brushed the soft skin on Oikawa’s side where his t-shirt had rolled up, causing the setter to shudder, and Iwaizumi mused that perhaps thunderstorms weren’t all that bad, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I intended to go for the "Coffee shop AU" prompt at first but it inspired me so much that I'll keep it for a long fic, so it won't be pubished before a while!  
> Stay tuned for D4 and D7*!
> 
> *this one won't be featured in the collection since it'll have a nsfw scene.
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/AngstWeaver) | [Other Haikyuu fics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScriptaManent/works?fandom_id=758208)


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